The Fairy Tale of Goldmarie and Pechmarie - and an unlucky Leprechaun
by dab-of-paint
Summary: "Are there dragons somewhere around here?" One disbelieving eyebrow rose and a corner of his mouth lifted in amusement. "Might be. Wouldn't recommend trying to talk to one of these arseholes though, last time I met one, I almost got my eyebrows burned off amongst other things." - A story about love, folklore and myths, grumpy leprechauns, dorks and war.


**The Fairly Tale of Goldmarie and Pechmarie - and an unlucky Leprechaun  
**

**Chapter One: Once Upon a Time**

* * *

_I guess every good and proper fairy tale starts with a 'Once Upon a Time'. So, who am I to stop with this revered tradition?_

_Once upon a time I died._

_And then I woke up._

* * *

Normally, the heroine – and since I am telling this story, I proclaim myself the heroine of this tale – would now be faced with a bad headache, would awake dramatically from her slumber, would maybe even have a handsome prince right in front of her face whilst she lay there on the cushy flower-bedded ground and – yeah no.

I woke up from a smell that was so vile I almost retched.

"What the fuck?", a harsh voice spat.

Yeah, I know that feeling buddy.

"The fuck are you?", a female joined in.

I looked up.

"What the hell?", I whispered in German.

I blinked and then pinched myself, hard.

"Ouch!"

"What the fuck are you doing in our car?"

Laura Moon was swearing at me. As in, Laura Moon, dead wife of Shadow Moon. As in TV Show character of American Gods Laura Moon.

"Err…"

Tires screeched as the madman in the drivers' seat stopped the car we were apparently in on the middle of the road. While I still sat there like a deer in the headlights, staring at the other non-existing-person – or mythical being, or whatever – staring back at me with a flabbergasted expression to my left, Laura Moon – and what the hell, that's Laura Moon, how did that even work? – stomped around the car, almost broke off the door and very roughly dragged my pyjama clad ass off the backseat. And my hair was still wet, I lamented internally.

And then it hit. I died.

I was literally dead and now unsteadily standing in front of another woman that was dead and was also called Laura and for a second I found that absolutely hysterically hilarious.

That hilarity died a swift death, when said dead woman grabbed me by my lapels and shouted a very loud

"Who the fuck are you?"

at me.

Mad Sweeney had now also left the confines of the car and was looming very threateningly in the background and glowering up a storm.

"Laura. I'm Laura. And I have no idea how I got here. I kind of died, but apparently I got better." My voice was a little wheezy at the end and I seriously considered the wisdom of asking the nice lady in front of me to release me, because I kind of still needed air. Probably.

"Not funny, darling.", grumbled Mad Sweeney, giving me the gimlet eye. He hit the 'R's a lot harder than Laura did, I uselessly noted.

The other man on the drivers seat also exited the car – oh, that was a taxi - and I guessed that would make him Salim then.

The hands around my lapels tightened and I seriously feared about the only garment I possessed. In this world. God, what the fuck.

"Not trying to be funny. I'm really sorry, but could you let go please? I still need air."

She let go and I sighed in relief.

"Well, I don't, and I really died, in a real car crash with blood and all that stuff, so how does that work in your case? And how did you – I don't know – transport? Beam? Whatever that was – into the taxi? Are you also one of those weirdos?" She looked pointedly at Sweeney who scoffed.

I took a moment to centre myself and just try to make _sense_ of something that clearly couldn't make _any_ sense at all.

I huffed out a breath.

"I have no idea."

If she were still alive, I'd bet I'd be able to see a vein pop on Lauras' forehead and I almost suspected I'd get my head ripped off in a few seconds, so I hurried to carry on.

"I slipped, fell down in the full tub with a blow-drier, apparently got electrocuted- ", I stumbled a little over the word, "and woke up in the backseat of your car. I know this sounds crazy and I'm still not convinced I'm not going to wake up at any moment to realize I fell asleep on the toilet or something equally stupid, but yeah.", I trailed off, not sure how to continue.

A pregnant silence fell. Salim awkwardly cleared his throat.

"Bollocks.", Sweeney scoffed.

And yeah, I got his point but _that_ was not helpful.

Laura also seemed to have reached her limit, because she sneered at me – and damn could that lady look hateful – and stomped back to the passengers' seat.

"We don't have time for this. C'mon Salim.", she hissed and proceeded to enter the car and when Salim joined her, and Sweeney also made to open the backseat door I kind of panicked and blurted out:

"You're a leprechaun, and you're called Mad Sweeney, and you were a king and then a bird and then you came to America after escorting Essie to her death – I think? And now you're working for Odin, or Mr. Wednesday, and you lost your lucky gold coin to Shadow Moon who is the husband of Laura Moon, who's right now sitting in this car and who's also a ridiculously strong zombie-woman and the taxi driver is called Salim and is in love with a Jinn and if you take me with you I can kind of tell you what may happen in the near future - possibly.", I blurted in one jumbled mess of a breath and then just stood there and stared pleadingly at the red-head, who'd by now turned fully in my direction and looked ready to lop my head off.

I shakily held up both of my hands and tried to look friendly.

"I can kind of explain?"

* * *

We sat in the car, Salim on the drivers' seat, Laura on the passenger seat, Sweeney right behind Salim and me to his right. Pretty good tactic to ensure that I couldn't get Salim to somehow swerve the car or stab Sweeney in the back or do something equally shady, I noted absent-mindedly. Laura probably wouldn't even notice a little backstabbing.

"So, talk.", Laura muttered, eyes flicking to the rear-view mirror to glance at me.

"I'm not exactly from this world…", I hedged, kneading my hands nervously. I saw Sweeney drawing a breath – probably to proclaim that I was talking 'Bollocks' as he'd say, so I hurried to keep on talking.

"I'm literally meaning I'm probably from another universe. This here – the reason why I know your names and know something like a part of your future is that I saw all of that in a TV Show."

"A TV Show?", Salim spluttered, eyebrows drawn together.

"That sounds like total bullshit.", Laura muttered. I nodded. "Yep- ", I popped the 'p', "it does. Doesn't make it any less true though."

"So, assuming what you're telling is the truth, why would that happen to _you_?", Sweeney didn't say that as derisive as I'd expected, but he was clearly trying to weight my worth.

I shrugged uneasily.

"The only correlation to any of you I see is that my name is also Laura and I also died. I'm also not something-", I fluttered my hands vaguely, "_other_ than human, I think. Never did anything that would suggest that."

"If what you say is true, Allah must have interesting plans for you.", Salim said, his side-profile looking very earnest.

I hummed.

"That's also something that's a little like you, Laura, I'm actually not religious. I mean I guess there might be something or someone – or someones for that matter – that fiddles around with the lines of destiny or whatever – but I'm not completely convinced of that." I stopped short for a moment, eyebrows drawn up and murmured. "Or _was_ not completely convinced of that. Does _knowing_ something also make it _believing_ something?"

Nobody answered that, if they heard.

For a moment, only the quiet radio music filled the silence.

Salim cleared his throat.

"So, since we already have one Laura, I think it would be easier to call you something else."

I blinked, drawing one side of my mouth back. "Like what?"

"Do you have a second name?", Laura asked with her head lazily resting on the window.

"Marie."

"Then it's nice to meet you, Marie.", Salim said gently, throwing me a quick smile through the rear-view mirror. That guy was really sweet.

"Eh, nice to meet you guys, too." My smile looked a little like a grimace and Sweeney scoffed beside me and drew a cap over his eyes. He shuffled around a little and ended up taking up almost a third of the whole backseat, with his long legs inside my foot space.

While Laura was never actually genuinely nice, she made a good conversion partner, and we ended up chatting about anything from casino etiquette to making the best cake batter, with Salim occasionally making comments about how things were handled back in Oman.

When she moved to lightly swerve the car in the direction of Indiana and looked at me while making a shushing motion, I made the split-second decision that I really didn't need to change that, because nothing bad happened there. If I even _needed_ to change anything. Maybe it would be better if I just went somewhere else and didn't interfere at all? Maybe start working at Jack's Crocodile Bar while we were there to get some money and-

And then what? I didn't have any papers and I was still in my pyjamas.

"Salim?", I asked quietly, very aware that I could wake up the resident leprechaun and probably change history – or earn a super-powered swat on the head from the resident zombie-woman, "can we stop at a store somewhere? I need something else to wear if we're trying to keep a low profile." And I also wanted to get a little fresh air because the backseat stank to high heaven, and the dead woman in front of me didn't exactly smell of roses either.

"You have any money?", Laura asked, also keeping her voice down. I shook my head, the dishwater blond curls now dry enough to bounce with the motion, before I noticed she wouldn't see that and humming a negative.

"Hm, we'll manage. Drive out there", she pointed at a gateway and after a few minutes, we drove by a big sign saying, 'Welcome to Effingham".

We ended up stopping at a Walmart and because Salim was strictly against stealing and could probably guess what Lauras' plan was, was nice enough to lend me 15 $.

I bought a seriously ugly red Christmas sweater with tiny Lamas, a tacky white shirt with a tiger on it, some formless discount panties and a bra, managed to grab a just barely fitting soft black polka-dotted leggings and almost started a fight over the last fitting pair of ballet flats in a very unflattering granite grey. When I passed the drug store section, I also added a toothbrush and -paste to my cart.

After I wiggled into my new wardrobe, brushed my teeth and used the plastic bag provided to pack up my pyjamas and underwear – and now that I actually wore one again – oh my god, I had been walking around without a bra and my pjs weren't exactly that thick to cover up my itty bits – and- and nothing happened, nobody leered, I was totally fine, we were in America and I was _not_ the weirdest person the Walmart employees hat ever seen, I huffed out a breath.

While I had been off discount-hunting, Salim seemed to have stacked up on bottled water and handed me a potato chip from the tiny stand I'd seen when entering the Shopping Centre. Sweeney was still sleeping in the backseat – now taking up even more space if that were possible.

"My, you look fabulous.", Laura commented with a cat-like grin and I did a little twirl and bowed – feeling slightly more comfortable to joke around with her.

"I know, right?"

When we finally started driving again – after Salims' prayers, talk about dedication here - I ended up squished to the farthest end of the seat, with my feet resting on the space behind the handbrake. It had already been pretty dark when they picked me up and since none of us were really up to talking anymore, I bundled up my pjs – without the plastic bag, that would be a little too noisy to actually drift off to sleep - and stuffed them under my head before I tried to make myself as comfortable as possible.

* * *

I felt very comfortable, head resting on my warm pillow, that was rising gently up and down- I blinked and registered the unusual sight of a slightly off-white tank shirt and jacket combi that my arm was slung about. The next thing that registered was a hand wedged between the backrest and a seriously big, very warm, hand resting right on my hipbone.

"Well, don't you two look cosy. Wish I had a camera.", a female voice chirped and before I could even try to detangle myself, the hand around my hip squeezed and a giant yawn left my temporary mattress.

"Bugger off, dead wife."

"Err…", I chanced a look up, not that sure where to put my hands anymore and ending up awkwardly holding onto the backrest of the drivers' seat with one hand and the other buried somewhere between the leprechaun and the backseat to prop myself up.

Well, the good news was that he didn't look angry, the bad news was that he had killer bedroom eyes.

"Sorry.", I murmured and managed to somehow get back into my own seat. Sweeney grunted and drew one hand over his face in an attempt to wake up.

"We're here.", Laura said from the passenger seat, wiggled her eyebrows and gave me a wolfish grin, before getting out of the car.

I left the taxi pretty fast when the first harsh expletives left my backseat-neighbour and proceeded to let out my own jaw-cracking yawn.

Salim and Laura were already on their way to the entrance of Jack's Crocodile Bar and I hovered a moment between them and the taxi, where Sweeney was just unfolding from his seat.

I was an inherently polite person and I thought it was a little rude to not wait a few seconds for someone to catch up with a group and enter a place together.

"Hurry up, cuddles!" These nicknames were going to get old real fast.

I did as told and slipped in behind Salim who'd held open the door. Sweeney probably wouldn't appreciate being waited for anyways and I was sure he knew his way around here a lot better than me.

We settled down in a booth and just a few seconds later our resident redhead slipped into the seat beside me. I noticed again how much space that guy always took up.

"Why're we here, dead wife?", Sweeney asked, arms propped up on the table and a frown on his face.

"I'm searching for my husband."

"And you think he'd actually take you back? You're a smelly cadaver that's loosing bits and pieces, not even a desperate man would try to hit your dead arse up."

Lauras answer was clenched fists and narrowed eyes and all teeth when she spat that he should stop trying to shame her, because that doesn't work on her.

"When you kissed, you might've tasted life, but he tasted death on your tongue, dead wife. Shadow ain't obligated to take your dead arse back and you know it. He's got a new life with Wednesday, Salim's got a new life with his Jinn and you need ta get a new life without Shadow."

Uncomfortable didn't even start to describe how awkward this whole situation was. I exchanged a silent, mutually discomforted stare with Salim while Sweeney and Laura verbally ripped into each other.

I was just glad that they didn't also try to drag me into their spat.

A steely eyed waitress – I think that would be Jack then? – took up our order and I hesitated only a moment about the fact that I didn't have any money on me. I mean, we had a leprechaun with us with a hoard of gold, so that shouldn't make any problems.

I'd tuned the bickering pair of inhuman beings out in favour of looking around the bar and appreciating the detail-oriented interior.

"And what was with that little cosy cuddle-pile in the backseat? You trying to get into the knickers of a delusional college student?"

Well, so much for staying out of their argument.

"I'm 25, he's about 4000 years too old for me and I'd like to stay out of your spat, thank you very much."

The discussion ground to a short halt, likely because neither of them actually thought I'd contribute something.

"Yeah sure, that Ginger Minge is a 4000-year-old leprechaun." Laura scoffed.

I was a little surprised that she still didn't believe that. I mean, she herself was an impossibility so it wasn't that far off that Mad Sweeney could be a mythical Irish creature – an impossibility, too.

"What did you do before you ended up… here?", Salim interjected curiously and yeah, well, it was nice that he tried to steer the conversation in another direction, but I wasn't that comfortable being the topic of conversation either.

"Worked part-time, was in the last semester of university for my master's degree.", I shrugged, "Nothing that interesting."

"Oh, an academic.", Sweeney gave a smile full of teeth, his tone mocking.

Laura looked a little disgruntled.

"And where and what did you study then?", Salim carried on, gracefully ignoring the other two. I took a second to answer that, seriously contemplating if I should lie.

"Computer Science, with a bachelors' degree in Internet Marketing. And I come from Germany, Bavaria, also studied there.", I mumbled reluctantly, eyes deliberately trained on my now newly arrived glass of sparkly water.

Considering the current war between old and new gods that might place me on the side of gods like Mr. World or Technical Boy or god forbid – on New Medias – as soon as she'd be born anyways. And that would mean it would probably place me on the opposite side from all three of my current companions.

I was a little terrified to look up. As a former Sun God and a leprechaun with a rather angry disposition I wouldn't exactly put it past Mad Sweeney to try to punt me to mush, if I looked even vaguely like I might go to the New Gods side with my knowledge about him.

"So, a useless academic, then.", Sweeney's voice was notably colder now.

I cleared my throat and gave myself a little pep-talk about not taking the cowards way out of this conversation. With squared shoulders, I managed to catch the leprechaun's eyes.

"I'm not going to go tattle to Technical Boy or Mr. World or any of the New Gods, just because I decided to study something that would get me a well-paid, secure job-position."

My answer was a dismissive shrug and a clearly measuring stare.

"Who're Mr. World and Technical Boy?", Laura asked, chin propped up on her hand.

I shuffled around a bit on my seat and took a gulp of water, before glancing unsurely at my seat-neighbour, not certain if I should be the one to explain that.

Sweeneys expression gave nothing away, so I huffed a little and proceeded to try to explain the clusterfuck that was the Old Gods and New Gods and the war that was brewing. I most probably got a few facts wrong and speculated here and there about the reasons and the possible consequences for humanity, if both sides decided to go at it, but I wasn't interrupted once so there was that.

"Speaking about Mythical Creatures, are there any more leprechauns walking around?" I was rather curious about that, seeing as in the show, Sweeney said he was _a_ leprechaun, which could imply that there were more than one.

Said leprechaun took his time answering, draining half of his pint, before glancing at me out of the corner of his eye.

"Yeah, there're a few. Just not around 'ere"

I hummed thoughtfully and ignored Lauras unconvinced scoff. If leprechauns existed and I vaguely also remembered a talk about mermaids between Sweeney and Wednesday – were there other creatures too?

Suddenly a lot more animated, I shifted to face the redhead.

"Are there _dragons_ somewhere around here_?_"

One disbelieving eyebrow rose and one of the corners of his mouth lifted in amusement.

"Might be. Wouldn't recommend trying to talk to one of these arseholes though, last time I met one, I almost got my eyebrows burned off amongst other things."

Oh my god – _dragons were real here_. Cue sparkling eyes.

"Do they have like scales and horns and can they _fly_?", I wiggled my hands in a flying-motion, very much excited about the new information.

"Some, nah, also some. Why're you so interested in dragons anyway?"

My arms spastically flew around for a second and I blurted: "I mean, dragons are real! Real-life dragons! Drag-oons! How can I not be excited about that? That's like the dream of every even vaguely fantasy-genre savvy person on this planet!"

Sweeney snorted.

"Oh wait 'till I tell that to-", I stopped short, suddenly sombre. Yeah, who'd I tell that to anyway anymore. I didn't _have_ any friends or family anymore.

Salim threw me a sympathetic glance and Laura looked away, uncomfortable with the subject.

"Wonder if there's another me running around somewhere in Germany right now.", I mused, deflating slightly.

Sweeney huffed out a breath.

"Might be.", he took a sip of his pint, "Might also not be. Doesn't really matter anymore, does it? Ye're here now, for better or worse. Same shit as with the dead wife, you'll need to make yourself a new life, _there's no coming back from death_."


End file.
